The Games We Play
by Single.Voice
Summary: He had reached the point where he wanted something so bad that he would kill to get it, but there's still the matter of justifying his own actions to himself. [warning: language, violence, character death, sexual situations] RyanGabriella.
1. Chapter 1: February 14

**WARNING: Character Death - don't read it if you can't take it. **

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_The Games We Play_

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(Chapter 1)

(02.14)

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A chill sweeps through him.

He doesn't belong here. Not in this dark, dark room with this dark, dark obligation to fulfill. Not him; he's happy, he wasn't put on this earth to carry this out. The gun sits in his hand, and it's so, so heavy—what he would do to put it down just for a minute—and it's cold in his warm hand, so unfamiliar, so out of place. He slides it in his pocket, a futile attempt to shake thoughts of what's next out of his mind.

Something stirs in the corner of the room and a light flips on, revealing a tired but pleased Troy. "Ryan?" he asks groggily, barely suppressing a yawn. "God, fell asleep, I'm so tired. I've been up all night, but Gabriella's going to love this, I know she is. What're you doing here?"

"I came to check if you needed any more help," Ryan says smoothly, not missing a beat. "Any last minute problems or anything..."

Troy grins gratefully, "Thanks, but I'm good. Everything's ready. You've already helped so much, I don't know how I can ever thank you."

"It's nothing, Troy."

"Nah, seriously. I would've been lost without your help. I can't wait to surprise Gabriella; she's too smart for her own good. I've never been able to surprise her on Valentine's Day, she always figures out what I'm planning..."

Ryan smiles wryly. Gabriella would be surprised tonight. "Yes. I'm sure she'll adore what's been planned."

"Yeah, I'm—whoa, Ryan, what's in your pocket?" Troy jumps, startled, and gestures at the large bulk Ryan is sporting. "That's not—it almost looks like...a gun." He looks apologetic, sorry to accuse and too innocent for his own good. Troy would never expect something like this, so it's his own fault he didn't see it coming, it's his fault he's so naïve, it's not Ryan's, it's Troy's fault, all of it—

Yes, it's Troy's fault, because Ryan can't sleep at night and when he does he has nightmares, Ryan is the one crying in his room and no one is there for him, he has no one, while Troy has the perfect life and can shit in his pants and have everyone cheering for him, Troy's the one with fans and a smiling Gabriella on his arm—

"Ryan? You're turning really red. You okay?" It's such a Troy comment, so fucking above suspicion and politely oblivious that he can't see it, see the hard, cold truth—Ryan wants everything Troy's got—

"No, Troy, I'm not." His voice, harsh and quiet, catches Troy by surprise, but not enough to scare him—Troy's got the world in his hand and he doesn't even know it sometimes, and nothing can scare Troy, he's protected, untouchable—

"Well, if there's anything I can do to help, all you have to do is holler. After all that you did for me—I mean, Gabriella and I are going to have the perfect Valentine's Day date now, and I owe you."

"I can take care of it myself. I don't need your help." And he slips out the gun, its pressure burning him but _ohmygod_, he has to do it, it'll be alright when it's all over—

"Ryan?" Troy sounds a bit frightened now, but it's not enough, it'll never be enough; it's only going to be enough when Ryan's the one with the fans and a glowing Gabriella on his arm—

"I'll let you two get acquainted, Troy."

Ryan doesn't pull the trigger (no, it couldn't have been him), but there's an earsplitting _bang_ and Troy's lying on the floor soaked in blood and the room is empty.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

He has to get rid of the body—no, no, he has to get of there, and fast; no one can find him there, no one can find out he killed the impeccable Troy Bolton—

A chill sweeps through him.

And Ryan Evans runs. Oh, he runs, faster than he's ever run in his whole life.

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--_author's notes_.

Oh no, I didn't. I did not just steal homicidal Ryan from the wonderful **Song Birdy**. Oh my, I did. Well. I'm letting you all know that he belongs to her. (To get a better taste of the original homicidal Ryan, go read: **The Jungle**, it's by **Song Birdy** and it's on her profile, my favorites, and my C2, "A Taste of Brilliance.") And yes, she was kind enough to let me borrow him. Thank you, Robin!

Anyway, I had fun borrowing him, as weird as that sounds...Ryan's such a seemingly complex character, and it's fun to experiment with him—you can make him super aggressive or charming or oblivious or flirty and not feel guilty at all. It's wonderful. And sure, Ryan's thoughts are really segmented and incoherent and a tad confusing, but yours would be too if you were in his predicament. It was also quite fun—more fun than I thought it would be—to lash out at Troy for being his cookie-cutter-perfect self.

Oh. As for pairings, this story will center around Gabriella/Ryan. I can promise you it will happen at some point, though whether it ends that way or not you'll have to wait and see. There's some Gabriella/Troy as well, but that takes a backseat to Gabriella/Ryan for obvious reasons. (And once in a while, we might even take a break and focus on some other characters!)

I'm not sure how many chapters this will be, or when it will be updated next. (Unfortunately, I have finals this upcoming week! Oh, the horror.) Just for clarification, the numbers under the chapter are dates (the month and day), telling you when the chapter takes place. This story will occur over the span of one year—some dates will be closer together, and others will have months between them. The whole story should be pretty short, not more than a few chapters, but we'll see. I suppose, as of right now, the plot's pretty clear, but if you'd like further explanation, go ahead and shoot me a PM.

**Review, per favore**.

--_disclaimer_.

Homicidal Ryan is Robin's (**Song Birdy**), almost everything else is Disney's, and the mistakes are mine.


	2. Chapter 2: February 15

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_The Games We Play_

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(Chapter 2)

(02.15)

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Oh god.

There it is, it's blood, everywhere—blood seeping through the thin, white silk sheets, blood tainting the white carpet, blood, blood, blood, until Ryan can't see the white anymore. He's got to run, he's got to get out of here, but there isn't a way out and no one can save him; it's him and the blood—

The blood disappears, and light trickles in from the newly opened blinds. The birds chirp and the sun shines, but Ryan is screaming, he's screaming louder than he's ever screamed before—

"Ryan. Did you hear me?" His sister's voice is not demanding or even slightly irritated, it's flat and vacant and she sounds as if she's aged years and years overnight. For once, she's not in control. She's lost and unsure and she's even trembling a little; he's never seen her like this before—

"Troy's dead, Ryan. Since yesterday, a little before six oh clock." Sharpay shudders, the shock of the situation still fresh. "No one can believe it. His parents—the team—Gabriella's hurting so bad, Ryan. I wish—" She can't bring herself to finish. "It's awful. If I could get my hands on the bastard who killed him—"

Ryan can't breathe. He chokes, "Troy's dead?"

"I just...I don't see _why_, Ryan!" She falls to the floor and sobs, a crumpled mess that could never be the real Sharpay Evans. Every broken sob is a boulder on Ryan's shoulders, until she gathers herself with difficulty, just when he decides he can't take another second. "I need to go visit Gabriella. We were never really close, but if I'm this torn...I know she'll need me. I have to—I feel like I still owe it to her, after what I did—"

She holds back another wrenching sob, "Are you coming?"

--

"Mrs. Montez? I'm Sharpay, and this is my brother Ryan. We're...we're here for Gabriella."

Gabriella's mother is no pleasant sight herself—her eyes are puffy, her hair's a mess, and she looks confused, like she doesn't know what to do to ease her daughter's pain. And she doesn't, "Troy was such a nice boy. And he was so young. My Gabi...she loved him." She's almost talking to herself, Ryan wonders if she really see them— But then she gives a watery smile, "It was so nice of you to come for Gabi."

They're led upstairs to Gabriella's room, which is the first door in a modestly decorated hallway. It's the first time Sharpay doesn't wrinkle her nose or make a rude remark about the lack of ostentation. Her head is bowed and she looks almost frightened before she takes a deep breath and gently knocks on the closed door.

The door opens and there's a girl standing there, but it can't be Gabriella—Gabriella's a smiling, shy sweetheart with a melodious voice and attractive features. The girl before them looks as if she hasn't eaten or slept for days. She's pale and her eyes are pained, and she's not the bright, starry-eyed beauty of a few days previous.

"Oh, Gabriella," Sharpay manages, her voice small. "I'm so, so sorry." Gabriella collapses onto the floor brokenly, and Sharpay kneels beside her and wraps her arms around the petite figure.

"I don't know why, Sharpay. Why Troy? He was so nice to everyone, he always put others before himself—he was my future—I don't know why—" She's saying something else, rambling uncomprehendingly about fairytales and dreams and wishes on a star, but Ryan tunes her out. He can't deal with this part, his part comes later—it's not his fault—it's for the best—

Gabriella may be heartbroken, but Ryan's a real mess.

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--_author's notes_.

Okay, I know this one is super short...it's more of a filler, I suppose—I wanted to get Gabriella's initial reaction out of the way (and also Ryan's, a little bit). The next chapter will skip a good chunk of time and revolve around when the shock's worn off. I know it's a bit sloppy, this chapter, but I don't normally deal with character death, and it's actually pretty hard to try and get on paper what Gabriella (and the other characters) would be feeling. Everything's all new and a horrible shock right now, so she's rambling and she's a little lost, which I think is understandable.

Spare a review?

--_disclaimer_.

It's not mine.


End file.
